Ribbons
by CoffeeAndCroissants
Summary: Just a day in the life of Wendy and Loki, how they interact on a day-to-day basis. Set about a month after Oren's demise. Slightly AU, i.e their relationship is semi-acceptable. First fic.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I don't think Wendy's pregnant yet because the dress fits. I'm not sure, the timing in this is a bit messed up, but who cares?

**Chapter 1**

Loki pulled the silky ribbons gently and tied them in a neat bow. He admired Wendy's rear view – the dress was exquisite, there was no doubt about it. It was made of red satin covered in tiny ruby gemstones. The dress itself was separated into two parts – a wide ballgown skirt and a corset top with a sweetheart neckline. There was a black lace overlay on top of it all with black silk ribbons adorning the skirt and tying up the corset at the back. Loki had tried not to make the corset part too tight, but he noticed Wendy squirming slightly.

"Does that hurt?" he asked quietly, running his hands down her sides.

"Not any more," she murmured in reply, looking up at him with wide brown eyes that anyone would lose themselves in. Wendy always felt all melty inside when Loki touched her. She loved the weight of his hands at her waist, the feel of his breath tickling her shoulder, how his caramel eyes always burned with desire when she was close to him.

She knew what he was thinking.

"I spent too long getting into this wretched dress, I'm not getting out of it now," Wendy said sternly, but actually she adored how Loki always wanted to have sex with her. And the fact that he loved her into the bargain didn't hurt either.

Wendy turned her attention back to the full length mirror they were standing in front of. Loki was wearing a simple, tailored black suit without a tie – Wendy hated ties. Well, the normal, boring ones anyway; she liked the ones with Bart Simpson on. But a Bart Simpson tie wouldn't really be Loki's style. Seeing as Loki was _so damn hot _Wendy didn't want him wearing anything to detract from the hotness. Truth be told, she didn't want him wearing anything at all, though that probably wouldn't go down well with her Council. Spoilsports.

Wendy rested her head against Loki's chest and wound her arms around his neck. As she was standing with her back to him, it was kind of uncomfortable, but it made for a nice picture in the mirror.

"We should be models together," Loki suggested, tightening his arms around Wendy's waist. "Or in an advertisement for hot people."

Wendy smiled at her reflection and Loki smiled too. "That's what ruins it though – we look so happy, and models always look grumpy."

Wendy mulled over that for a moment. "No, not grumpy, 'cause that would be unattractive. Sort of pissed-off or... bored. It has to be boring," Wendy continued conversationally, disentangling herself from Loki's arms. "You know, just standing there in weird positions with too-high heels and daft clothes. But I dunno, maybe they get a kick out of it."

Wendy rolled her shoulders. She'd get Loki to massage them later. Crossing to her dressing table, she pinned two rosette clips into her hair above her ears, to keep the explosive ringlets out of her face. Several curls sprang forward immediately. "Goddamn hair!" Wendy growled. She attacked the offensive ringlets with hairspray, then a brush, then some black bobby pins that would be invisible, finally re-clipping the rosettes. Wendy stepped back with satisfaction before detecting movement in her hair. She narrowed her eyes and glared at her reflection. The curls remembered a previous engagement and stopped moving. Wendy picked up a long sleeved lace shrug and pulled it on. "Why do we have to go to these things anyway?" Wendy grumbled uncharacteristically.

"'Cause you're Queen, remember?" Loki replied from the other end of the room.

Wendy licked her lips. Even after a month, she still didn't feel like a Queen. Elora would always be Queen to her, and Wendy would always be the Princess. Even Loki kept calling her Princess, though he used it as a term of endearment rather than a title.

Wendy noticed out of the corner of her eye that Loki was engrossed in a book. It was a frequent occurance. "Whatcha reading?" Wendy approached him, and as she did she noticed the faded patchwork cover of her journal. "Hey! Stop reading that!" Wendy squealed, lunging to grab the book out of Loki's grasp. He twisted at the last moment and Wendy surfaced empty handed.

"I don't know why I can't read it, as I seem to feature heavily in your writings," Loki teased, his eyes sparkling. Like honey and diamonds, Wendy thought, but she had more important things to think about now. She couldn't help groaning. Her journal was sort of like a sex diary, half of which was a description of what she and Loki did together, the other dedicated to an analysis of what could be improved and what they could explore next.

"Bondage?!" Loki exclaimed, still reading. "I didn't think you had it in you, Wendy."

"Well, hardly with chains or anything like that." Wendy crinkled her nose, feeling embarrassed. She had given up on trying to get her journal back. "I dunno, with ribbons or something. I didn't really think it out."

Loki contemplated that thought. "Yeah, ribbons would be good, like the ones on that dress. And furry handcuffs. You gotta have those," he said confidently.

Wendy raised an eyebrow.

"What? I've always fancied myself a pair of furry handcuffs," Loki said innocently, but his eyes were laughing.

Wendy grinned and hit him on the arm. "Oh, come on, we'll be late."

"Is this you conceding? Does this mean I get furry handcuffs?" Loki asked eagerly, his face lit up with almost childlike excitement.

"If it makes you happy, then sure!" Wendy replied keenly, already making devious plans. She had her hand on the doorknob. "Just make sure no-one hears you talking about bondage, of all things!"

"OK," Loki agreed, and positively bounded over. Upon Wendy opening the door, they came face to face with Willa, who said incredulously, "Bondage, Wendy? I didn't think you had it in you!"

A/N Is this OK? I've got a vague idea about where this is going, but let me know if you like it or if I should continue.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sheeshkebab totally belongs to Claire. All Hail Claire. *hailing* I use it with her permission. Speaking of which, I could do with a chicken kebab right now... school has amzaing ones... too bad I'm off school right now. That was sarcasm by the way. Much as I love chicken kebabs I would rather be off school and sans kebab than in school and avec kebab.

* * *

"Sheeshkebab guys, why do you think I'm incapable of kinky stuff?" Wendy complained, walking between Loki and Willa. They were heading to a formal reception for influential representatives from the four other tribes - the Markis and Marksinnas from the Kanin, Omte and Skojare and Sara from the Vittra as well as community members that, after the revolution, were now able to join the Council and have their voice heard.

"To be honest, Wendy, you're too cute and innocent for that sort of stuff," Willa said, slightly apologetically.

"Does this dress look innocent to you?" Wendy demanded of Willa, gesturing at all the red and the black and the lace.

Willa pursed her lips in contemplation and tipped her head to one side.

She looks weird when she does that, Wendy thought.

"Hey, I've seen you in stuff way sexier than that," Loki commented unexpectedly (on reconsideration, that's exactly the sort of stuff Loki always said, so it's actually pretty much expected of him). "Though that dress is class. You totally suit the Gothic look," he winked, "what with the chains etcetera. But you look beautiful in anything, Wendy," he smiled, genuinely.

Wendy blushed - she knew the difference between Loki's offhand compliments and when he honestly meant it.

Loki grinned wider. He loved it when Wendy blushed; more, he loved that he could make her blush. He stroked her cheek and leaned in to kiss her lightly on the lips.

"Uh, people?" Willa interrupted hesitantly, "You know it's not like me to ruin a moment but-"

Loki raised an eyebrow.

"What? Anyway, you guys better get going. We don't want to piss off the important people, do we?" Willa encouraged, leading the way down the hallway to the ballroom.

Wendy, feeling slightly envious of Loki's ability to raise one eyebrow only, dragged herself with bad grace after Willa, resigned to the fate of a brain-numbingly boring evening with posh twats and people trying to get her to give them money for some cause or other. It's not like Wendy didn't want to fund projects; on the contrary, she was all for the rebuilding of the community, but why the whole business of dressing up and hosting a summit was necessary she wasn't sure. One would have thought that being Queen would give you some power over stuff, but evidently that was a misinformed preconception.

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Three-quarters of an hour later found Wendy regretting her decision to follow Willa. Like, really regretting it. In fairness, Wendy reasoned, the reception wasn't _quite _as bad as the ones she'd experienced when Elora was alive. For one, there was no fat, sweating, perverted Chancellor – there was a hot young gay guy instead (Wendy constantly fangirled about what Bain and Tove got up to: she wished she could watch. Wendy suddenly shook her head, alarmed at the perversion invading her mind). For another, Wendy had Loki on hand, who made all the difference. Nevertheless, the meet and greet for the posh twats descended into boredom after the first four "It is such a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty, it's what I've always dreamed! You're such an inspiration to us all!" Sorry, what? I've only been on the throne for a month tops and half my Council secretly hate me for being a "radical thinker"! Wendy thought, feeling most exasperated at the world and the people in it. Still, she appreciated the first four of those smarmily-executed greetings, before realising that a)they were all the same, no doubt slips of paper bearing suitable phrases had been distributed for people to memorise and b) they were empty words. One thing that Wendy found unbearably frustrating was that as the Queen, her subjects wouldn't speak their mind about her (to her face at least) so she had no idea whether they thought she could improve a particular plan or suggest a new perspective. They all just went along with what she said, out of fear or out of respect, though only her friends truly respected her. The Laris bitch conceded to Wendy's will for the most part, but not without an unnecessary amount of complaining (which was pointless, anyway, because Wendy wasn't gonna take no shit from her). Laris had seemed to have a conversion at the revolution, but unfortunately she'd gone back to her old ways. Wendy was dying to get rid of her but she was too high up the social scale to ask to leave without saying "It's because you annoy me so freaking much".

The meal was a bit more fun, because Wendy wasn't obliged to talk just as much and look happy all the time. Sitting at the head of the table, she resisted the urge to slouch in her seat, hunched over the pea soup. She normally liked pea soup well enough, but this one wasn't seasoned enough. However Wendy couldn't be arsed yelling at chefs to bring her new pea soup, so she poked at it a few times with her spoon, made a face and was satisfied for the time being.

The next course was duck in some sticky sauce thing. It was nicer than the soup but Wendy hardly got the chance to eat it because a woman with mousy brown hair from the Skojare kept engaging her in conversation. It was pretty awkward conversation too, because Wendy had made sure to sit all the reps as far away from her as possible. This was in order to prevent exactly what was happening now. She had seated Loki and Willa on her left and Tove and Bain on the right. Some people (i.e. Laris) had objected to that before Wendy gave her the evil eye. These guys were her friends and Laris most certainly was not.

The mouse lady finally shut up, so Wendy took the opportunity to take a huge bite out of her duck.

"Wendy?"

Wendy looked over at Willa, mouth bulging ungracefully.

Willa shook her head in what seemed like exasperation. "Dainty bites, remember?"

Wendy did remember. She recalled her princess training where she got to eat a shitload of food for a few afternoons under the pretense of training her "how to eat". Wendy didn't complain. She was a growing girl who liked her food. Consequently all the crap about fork etiquette and bite sizes went in one ear, did a U-turn and headed out immediately. Didn't even make it across her mind.

"Your Majesty?" a wavery voice called.

Wendy turned away from Willa, hastily swallowed the duck and scoured the hall for the voice.

"Eh, Your Majesty, I'm over here..."

She started at the sight of a middle-aged man with thinning black hair seated down beside Bain. At _her_ table. "How did you get up here?" she blurted out.

The man coughed. He looked so frail Wendy wondered if an intense coughing fit would finish him off. "Eh, I was directed up here by the High Marksinna Laris, eh..."

Would she leave Wendy alone? Answer: no.

She mustered up a smile. "Well, may I help you?"

The man looked slightly flustered and raised a shaking hand to his face. He was tapping his nose, looking fearful.

Wendy was losing patience and her duck was losing warmth.

"I am... I am Markis Simmond from the Omte tribe. I, eh... was wondering... well, all the Markis and Marksinnas from our great tribe were wondering if, eh, you would do us the honour..."

Wendy blanked for a few seconds. She felt her eyes shutting. Gathering willpower, she forced them wide open and plastered a huge smile on her face.

The Markis recoiled. "Eh, so, would that be agreeable with Your Majesty?"

Trust me to miss the important bit, Wendy growled to herself.

"Yes, of course, I would be glad to...-"

Wendy glanced at Tove to help her out. Thankfully, he put the words in her head.

"To, um, teach rowing classes...? Sewing classes, that's it. Yes, I will go to Omte and teach the girls... their future careers? Oh my God, you sexist pig! Fuck off, I don't like you!"

The Markis gulped and coughed rapidly.

Wendy sat back in her chair, fuming.

"Uh, Wendy? You think we should ask for medical help? The guy's not looking too good," Bain informed her.

"Hell no. In fact, tell him to stop the racket he's making."

Wendy turned to Loki, who was grinning widely. "Pretty good, right?" she asked proudly.

"Yeah. Also, you have sauce on your nose." He laughed.

She wore an expression of dawning dismay. "Crap."

"See when you weren't listening to him and you put on that demented expression? You looked like a clown. I hate clowns," Tove said, making a face.

"I told you not to take big bites," Willa scolded.

"Hey, I can get rid of it," Loki suggested innocently.

Not here, Wendy thought futilely.

He licked the sauce off her nose.

The hall went silent.

Wendy's face went crimson.

Loki said, "That's nice sauce."

Oh, sure it is, she thought.

Gulping, Wendy said loudly, "What are y'all looking at?"

Y'all. _Why _did that have to slip out at a time like this? Wendy tried to regain composure by grabbing Loki's wine and downing it.

Loki looked slightly surprised.

Wendy looked around. Everyone was still staring. Gah, go away, she thought. "It hasn't worked," she whispered to Loki.

He took Willa's goblet from her place. "Here, have another one."

And they continued on in that vein for some time.

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A/N: Originally I wasn't going to finish it there, but I did. So there. Actually, I just ran out of ideas. And by the way, I literally have no clue what I'm gonna do for the next chapter, but I think it'll be the last. And I'm only just realising that sheeshkebab is an inside joke... Hang on, I want to thank my reviewers so far, you're awesome guys, love ya so much : Steffi6400ii [bonding over Ian], Stephanie, Emily Kadushin, Ice-Cold-Diamonds and my honoured Guest. You have no idea the surprise and happiness I feel by getting reviews :D And they're so nice, too!


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